


Like That Counting Crows Song

by madetobeworthy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Healing, background steve/sam if you squint, slow burn but it forgot to be slow, slow healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10093208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madetobeworthy/pseuds/madetobeworthy
Summary: The fourth day consisted of several phone calls. To Kate -- Bucky didn’t know her but she was either Clint’s sister or girlfriend. Or ex girlfriend. There was a lot of complaining about his dog that she had. To Tony -- not asking him to help pay for repairs but rather to get resources on the best people for the repairs. Tony naturally volunteered himself. Clint said Tony enjoyed building things, Bucky was still convinced it was an ego thing. There were several other calls to people Bucky didn’t listen in on, except for one where Clint was, rather impressively, chewing out someone in Russian. There were a lot of threats and Bucky got the distinct impression Clint was probably going to kill a Russian mob boss.----Clint's life is a series of unfortunate events that somehow peaked at his apartment getting blown up. Bucky doesn't really want to get caught up in his mess, but it's hard to avoid the homeless guy sleeping on your couch when all you want to do is watch Netflix.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I need to work on my time management skills. But panic and rushing aside I had so much fun writing this. I love these nerds.
> 
> Please please please check out the amazing art that accompanies this fic by [girlouttaplace](http://girlouttaplace.tumblr.com/)  
> [Check it here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9940913)  
> ([backup](https://s16.postimg.org/7ixuarrs5/starttitle.png) [links](https://s22.postimg.org/eu6wihr29/end.png))

It all started with a knock on the door.

Bucky had moved in with Steve because that was the default. That was what he remembered and the recovery had to start somewhere. Living with Steve had started out rough -- and it still had it’s moments -- but some of the edges had smoothed and were soft again. The thing was, Bucky wasn’t Steve’s default anymore and Bucky didn’t want to be stuck in a world that no longer existed. They were close, but there was a distance between them neither knew how to bridge. They would venture out on their own to leave the other alone in the apartment, or to his own devices -- it hadn’t started that way but that’s where they were now. They were brothers but their bond was confusing and needed to be re-navigated and rediscovered somehow.

And then the knock.

Bucky was home alone trying to decide what he should do with his day -- so far it had been scrolling through Netflix -- when it came. Startling, as no one ever knocked because no one ever came by if Steve wasn’t home, but not so startling as to put him on edge. He was getting better at that. It had been a long time in the works.

The peephole showed a rather disheveled Hawkeye -- Clint, his name was Clint -- in the hallway with a plastic bag and bow in one hand and a pillow tucked under his other arm. Startling moved to suspicious. And curious.

“Why do you live in Manhattan?” Was how he was greeted when he opened the door.

“Steve doesn’t like what Brooklyn’s become.”

“Tell me about it.” Clint huffed, rolling his eyes. With the door open Bucky noticed the backpack on the ground that had been just out of sight beforehand. 

“Why are you here?” Bucky asked after what seemed like an overly extended period of silence.

“Turns out Brooklyn doesn’t like me as much as Cap doesn’t like it.”

“Okay. But why are you  _ here _ . At my apartment?”

This seemed to confuse Clint, his brow furrowed and he looked down at the sum of his current belongings and then back up at Bucky with a shrug.

“I can’t stand Stark for long periods of time and you guys were the next closest. I was expecting Steve, to be honest. I didn’t know you were at the answering the door phase of your life yet.”

“And yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Clint echoed with a nod. “Can I come in at least?”

“To stay?” 

“Well, at least to hang out until I can sort my shit out.” Clint said, sensing Bucky’s sense of panic at the idea of another body in the apartment. He didn’t know why he’d come to Steve’s place really; aside from the fact that he wasn’t able to reach Natasha when he’d tried, and Kate was ...somewhere. With his dog. He just needed a place that felt relatively safe so he could gather his thoughts. “I’ve been on the move for a bit.”

Bucky gave him another once over, and then silently stepped aside to let Clint shuffle in. 

“Look at it this way,” Clint said as he scooped up his backpack and stepped inside the apartment, “At least I didn’t pick up any other strays on my way over.”

\---

Clint was definitely staying. 

“I’m sorry, did you say your apartment was  _ blown up _ ?” Steve asked, giving Clint a rather exasperated look because how could he be so casual about it? But at the same time it was Clint and things did tend to blow up around him on a slightly higher frequency than the rest of them.

He’d gotten home to find Bucky and Clint sitting on opposite sides of the couch watching a crime drama. Clint was still holding his pillow, Bucky was giving him mildly-suspicious-but-mostly-curious looks every so often. It was a personal development on Bucky’s side for sure, but Clint was an anomaly that forced people to develop outside their comfort zone because he was so... 

He definitely didn’t want to say pathetic but was hard pressed to find another word.

“Yeah.” Clint said with a solemn nod, having abandoned his pillow on the couch. He leaned against the counter that separated the rest of the apartment from the kitchen and grinned at Steve.“You know , it’s weird how much we have in common, Brooklyn sucks and Russians keep fucking things up.”

“Russians.” The question was framed as a statement as he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, passing one to Clint. He kept them in the house for the taste and the illusion of being a somewhat regular American citizen. And for guests, the few times they had them.

“Yeah. Russians.” Clint said with a nod, grabbing the beer and realizing it was not a twist cap as Steve had lead him to believe when he twisted his off. Looking a bit bashful about it, Steve reached over and opened the bottle for him.

“Thanks.” Clint said with a hint of a laugh as he drew the bottle in again. “I don’t know if you know this but the apartment building I live in used to be owned by the Russian mob. Well, I think they’re a mob? They all wear tracksuits and it’s kind of weird. It’s been quiet for a while, but they don’t like me much. They’re amateurs though, they got a bomb in my place and set it off when I wasn’t even home. My place and the apartment next to me took all the damage, but no one was hurt. I got the building cleared and made sure everyone had someplace to go.”

“See, Buck. This is why we don’t live in Brooklyn anymore.”

“Because Hawkeye is a mess?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow. It made Clint laugh. Even Steve had to stifle a chuckle.

“You can stay here Clint. Probably not as much room as at Tony’s but--”

“But there’s less Stark.” Clint snorted, cutting Steve off. “Thanks. I only intend on couch surfing for a week at most.”

“Stay as long as you need, we take care of our own.”

Bucky made a small noise at that, but when Steve and Clint had looked over at him he was staring at the TV again. He seemed tense and Clint felt a bit bad.

“I mean, if you’re not comfortable with it I can go crash at Stark’s. There’s a million places to hide from him.” Clint offered. He hadn’t really had a chance to get to know Bucky that well. No, that wasn't true. He ’d had lots of chances to get to know him but he had instead avoided getting to know him. There were similarities there between them, experiences that were different but close to being the same. Clint didn’t want to relive it, he was sure Bucky didn’t either. Maybe they would have been great friends but Clint only experienced fear when it was coming from the past, he didn’t want to deal with it.

“It’s fine.” Bucky said after an extended silence -- one that seemed more like he was trying to make Clint uncomfortable than anything else. It had worked. “But I pick what’s on Netflix.”

Clint let out a short, huffing laugh. “Yeah, okay. Deal.”

\---

It became clear a week would not be long enough after a few days. Clint’s life was a mess. He had two pairs of pants -- sweats and jeans -- and a single t-shirt with him. After two days Bucky had already insisted he borrow some of his clothes and do some laundry, or shopping, or something. Clint had complained that the shirt was too baggy in the arms and was making him feel self conscious.

The fourth day consisted of several phone calls. To Kate -- Bucky didn’t know her but she was either Clint’s sister or girlfriend. Or ex girlfriend. There was a lot of complaining about his dog that she had. To Tony -- not asking him to help pay for repairs but rather to get resources on the best people for the repairs. Tony naturally volunteered himself. Clint said Tony enjoyed building things, Bucky was still convinced it was an ego thing. There were several other calls to people Bucky didn’t listen in on, except for one where Clint was, rather impressively, chewing out someone in Russian. There were a lot of threats and Bucky got the distinct impression Clint was probably going to kill a Russian mob boss.

They didn’t talk about it.

They didn't talk about a lot of things. Steve had been their main source of conversations, but he wasn't able to stick around all day every day. He and Sam were working on something that Bucky wasn’t too clear on, but he knew it had something to do with veterans and if that wasn’t just so Steve he didn’t know what was. He may have been a little bitter about being stuck with Hawkeye all the time now, but he wasn’t going to deny Steve the work he was clearly enjoying.

And maybe he was okay with Hawkeye -- Clint. Clint was his name. He was sort of okay with him. He was quiet a lot, rarely complained about Bucky’s Netflix choices, cleaned up after himself. Sometimes he’d leave for hours on end and Bucky never worried about it but he did notice the absence.

He just didn’t like being alone.

Clint always came back anyway with a case of beer and a lopsided grin on his goofy face. He’d always talk Bucky into watching a movie and drinking a few beers with him after a shower. Bucky never actually asked where he went but based on his appearance when he did return he assumed it was working on the apartment that had been blown up.

The seventh night of Clint camping out on the couch Steve was home when Clint was corralling Bucky for their now routine movie and beer wind down. Steve watched them curiously from the island in the kitchen as Clint, without ever laying a hand on Bucky physically, directed him straight into the kitchen for their beers while he made himself comfortable on the couch, curling up on the left side. Bucky typically sat on the right. Seven days and they still kept as much distance between them as possible.

“Mind if I hang out tonight?” Steve asked, already making his way to the couch and claiming the corner Bucky normally took.

“Steve, I’ve been living on your couch for a week, I could never say no to you at this point.”

“You could never say no to him before that point too.” Bucky deadpanned as he grabbed a third beer from the fridge. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Steve in his spot.

“Dude, you’re terrible at keeping secrets, what kind of spy are you?” Clint huffed, either not noticing or not mentioning the stare down going on between Steve and Bucky.

“I never said I was a spy.” Bucky countered, giving up and scowling at Steve as he sat down in the middle of the couch. Steve looked rather proud of himself. Clint just took his beer.

“What are we watching tonight, Bucko?”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that.” Bucky grumbled, reaching for the remote and giving Steve a death glare when he snagged the remote first. “Steve.”

“Bucky.” Steve replied, scrolling through the Netflix stream. “Sam told me about this movie called Scream and I thought it sounded good. We should watch it.”

“Oh man, I haven’t seen that movie in years. It is kinda a scary movie though. Well, ninties horror, not so scary now but I don’t know what would make you guys jump.”

“It’s on my list.” Bucky said, still sullen. Truthfully he’d been wanting to watch a lot of movies in the horror or thriller genre’s but had been unsure of how he would react to them and so had held off.

Clint bumped his knee against Bucky’s as Steve put on the movie. When Bucky looked at him he didn’t look back, eyes on the TV as he took a swig from the beer. Bucky fought it for a while, but eventually let himself relax even with Clint in his space, their knees still touching. He didn’t notice Steve glancing over and smiling about it.

\---

Bucky was prone to nightmares. Steve had only gone to check up on him once during the time Clint had been staying with them. Taking his cue from Steve, Clint let Bucky be when the nightmares began. He took out his hearing aids and pretended nothing was wrong. Nobody talked about it in the mornings. As far as Clint was concerned he had no right to intrude on such things. 

He still got nightmares on occasion himself. He knew the shame of the outbursts, the adrenaline, and fear of reliving the past. He didn’t want to embarrass Bucky.

Steve hadn’t come home yet by the time Bucky decided to turn in, and Clint was lying awake on the couch watching a movie on mute with the captions playing. His aids were out and he was just getting comfortable and nearly drifting off when he heard a noise.

He couldn’t hear specifics without his hearing aids, but he could hear things that were loud. He sat up and picked up one of his aids to get a better idea of what was going on. There was silence for a moment and then a crash, what sounded like glass breaking.

Without hesitation, and with all the stealth training he had, Clint moved towards Bucky’s room. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do when he got there, but he knew he had to do something. The thought of calling Steve had crossed his mind but who knew how long that would take, or how badly Bucky might hurt himself in the meantime.

The door was slightly ajar and Clint carefully pushed it open. The curtains were open and streetlight shone in just enough for Clint to make out the broken lamp and Bucky shifting uncomfortably, tangled in his sheets like he’d been thrashing around.

“Bucky?” Clint called, his voice steady and firm. It was no time for soft and coaxing, Clint could relate to that. He got no answer so he tried again. He moved closer, sure to keep out of arm's reach and carefully avoiding the glass shards scattered across the floor.

Bucky opened his eyes after the third time Clint said his name, didn’t move but just stared. Clint stayed where he was and stared back at him. When Bucky didn’t say anything Clint slowly moved closer, sure he was going to regret it.

“You here with me, man?” He asked, well within reach if Bucky decided to lash out now. No one ever said he had a sense of self preservation. Approaching a man during a night terror -- a PTSD attack -- when he was trained to be dangerous was...

Well it was pretty up there on the list of dumb things to do, especially considering the super soldier aspect.

But Clint didn’t really consider these things, nor did he flinch back when Bucky reached out and grabbed his wrist. Tight, but not bruising. Something to hold onto, an anchor. He needed to know it was real.

“Clint?”

“That’s me, Buckaroo.”

Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes while tugging Clint closer so he nearly toppled into the bed as well. He hissed when he cut his foot on an arrant shard of lamp.

“What’s happening?” Bucky asked, still on high edge.

“You broke your lamp and I just stepped on a piece. Move over.” Clint didn’t wait for Bucky to react, turning and sitting on the bed, giving a bit of a tug against Bucky’s grip. “Could I get my hand back for a second?”

Bucky let go, Clint acted like he didn’t feel his hand pressed against the bare skin of his back as he pulled his foot over his knee to look at the cut. It wasn’t bad, not a sliver, but still a relatively small piece of ceramic he could pull out of his foot. It bled a little but Clint just clamped his hand over it to apply pressure.

“Are you okay?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Clint quipped, pulling his hand away to check that the bleeding had stopped. He barely noticed there was a moment of silence before finally:

“Not really.”

“I could stay?” Clint offered, making it a question to let Bucky decide. He glanced over his shoulder and Bucky just shrugged. He took the chance and moved to lay down next to Bucky with his back to him. Bucky’s hand went right back to him as they settled in. Clint had needed an anchor before, needed help and reassurance that this was real and he was there. He could do that for Bucky now.

\---

They didn’t talk about it in the morning. Clint carefully made his way out of Bucky’s room to go make coffee. Bucky waited long enough to smell it before he got up to sweep up the shards littering his floor.

When Steve walked in Clint was in the kitchen drinking from a mug, the full carafe next to him on the counter for quick refills. Bucky was in the shower.

“Hey Steve, who you running off with all night?” Clint asked, his tone teasing and light. Steve definitely blushed to which Clint raised an eyebrow and sipped his coffee.

“I went by your building last night. Looks good, almost done?”

“Just a couple more days. The outside is all built, Tony is redesigning the inside to  _ suit my needs _ .” Clint said with a one handed air quote and roll of his eyes. “Eager to get rid of me?”

“Nah.” Steve said. “But I don’t think sleeping on a couch this long is very comfortable.”

“Cap, I was a certified circus child, a couch is not the worst place I’ve slept for this long. I’ll be outta your hair soon. In the meantime I was thinking of going shopping for some food stuffs, since I’ve been eating all yours.”

“Maybe bring Bucky?” Steve suggested, trying to make a straight face but kind of cringing at himself. “I know you go out a lot of the day, but he always just stays here. I can get him out sometimes but I worry about him.”

“Well, guess we’ll see how he feels about it.” Clint said, refilling his cup. “Why don’t you bring him along when you go hang with Sam?”

“I did at first, or tried to. They bicker, but I think in a friendly way? It’s hard to tell sometimes. Bucky can’t be forced to do things he doesn’t want to though. I think he has some social anxiety. He never used to and I think that throws him off a bit. It does for me.”

“Havin’ other people in your head can mess up all sorts of things.” Clint said with a shrug. The shower turned off and Steve glanced down the hall with a bit of a guilty look. Clint who couldn’t really hear the shower one way or the other followed Steve’s look and got what he was looking guilty about. “Why don’t you make a list and I’ll bully Bucky into coming out with me.”

“You couldn’t bully Bucky into anything.” Steve snorted, thankful Clint always seemed to know how to say things the right way.

“Oh Cap, just you wait until I start bullying you. You’ll see.” Clint retorted with a lopsided grin and a wink.

\---

Coaxing Bucky to come out to the store with him had not been as difficult as Steve had made it out to be. Clint was one part thankful he didn’t have to prod at Bucky until he caved, but one part sad he didn’t get to prove to Steve just how charming he could be.

Bucky still had an air of sulleness to him but Clint thought it was worth it just to see him pushing a shopping cart. Life was weird and this was fascinating. 

He needed a hobby.

They headed for produce first, not because of any sort of plan but rather because that was where Bucky just drifted over to without prompting. Clint just followed behind him trying to decide how to feel about this. Bucky hadn’t spoken much in the car and that hadn’t changed. He just looked at the fruit. Clint had never seen anyone look at fruit for so long.

The really nice thing about grocery stores was that no one gave a shit who else was in the store, they had food to buy. Clint always found grocery shopping kind of nice because his face was out there and he did tend to get recognized when he was out and about, but never at the grocery store. It seemed Bucky enjoyed the luxury the same way.

It took just under ten minutes to look at all the fruit and pick just the right pieces. Clint was a little bit amazed.

“You doin’ okay there, Buckaluck.”

“Why do you keep calling me names like that?”

Clint shrugged. “I dunno. Just do. Do you want me to stop?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed for a moment before mimicking Clint’s shrug. 

Clint wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, but it seemed something like progress. Or friendship.

“You better not take another ten minutes with the cereal.”

“Are you telling me or yourself?” Bucky asked, grinning at Clint.

“Ass.”

\---

“It’s done.”

It had been 2 weeks and 3 days since Clint showed up at their door. Steve and Bucky looked up from their dinner to him.

“I just got the text from Tony. My damn apartment is done. Coulda been done earlier if he didn’t have to put his tech into every little thing.” Clint huffed. “I’m gonna head there after dinner, you guys wanna come check it out? I know you’ve got a thing about Brooklyn, Steve, but I’ve been hanging out here a week, let’s all have a change of scenery.”

Steve looked at Bucky, Bucky looked at a pepper on his pizza.

“Why not.” Steve says after a minute. “I’d like to see what Tony’s done with the place.”

“You just wanna criticize it.” Clint snickered, grabbing a slice of pizza. “You can’t fool me Rogers, I know you too well.”

“You’re not as good a spy as you think you are.”

“Never said I was a spy.” Clint said, winking at Bucky and pretending not to notice the smirk.

\---

The drive over was quiet save for the radio. Clint would not have suspected that Steve was into such modern music. It wasn’t even anything he listened to, but if it was made after the 90’s what was the point?

“I thought you had a car.” Steve said halfway there, looking at Clint through the rear view mirror.

“I did. She’s, uh, out of commission. Like most things in my life.” Clint said with a shrug. He didn’t mind taking the back seat, mostly he was grateful for the ride. Having to take subway, or even cabbing, had gotten boring after the first couple of days, taking all his stuff had been terrible enough the first time.

The building didn’t look good as new because it could never be. It was old just like the area it was in. But it was shined up a bit, looked a bit brighter. Clint smiled when he saw it, he did every time. Home sweet home.

Tony greeted them at the front door and ushered them into the elevator that was working better than ever and had a serious upgrade on the inside.

“There’s an emergency shut down if any weapons are detected.” Tony explained on the ride up to Clint’s loft. “No more bombs in your apartment.”

“What about my archery stuff?” Clint asked, holding up the bow he was carrying.

“What’s so dangerous about a stick and a string?” Tony retorted, smirking slightly to himself as Clint rolled his eyes. Bucky was thankful Stark had decided to take his arm into consideration as well.

The hallway looked normal. When they got inside the apartment it looked nearly identical to how it had before it had been blown up. Clint was impressed with Tony’s memory for it at any rate. 

“I got you an upgraded alarm system, you can retina scan people at the door if needed, whole building can lock down, front door camera intercom system in every apartment suite, and for you personally I made a coffee machine with voice command to brew you a pot. It’ll remind you when it needs to be filled with grounds again.”

“Tony, don’t you think that’s excessive?” Clint asked. He knew Tony had been planning on upgrading this and that, but the whole building? He thought it was a little over the top.

“You’re a superhero protecting this building of people on your down time. I just wanted to give you some tools to help.”

“I told you he was a total softy.” Clint said, elbowing Bucky’s arm and chuckling. Bucky gave him a somewhat incedulous look but Clint was already walking towards the kitchen to check out the coffee maker. As Steve started to ask Tony questions about how any of this would actually help other than looking fancy Bucky quietly slipped away from them and followed Clint to the kitchen.

“Look, it’s actually brewing. All I said was ‘coffee’ to it.” Clint said, beaming at Bucky.

“Oh good, you’ll stop grumbling about forgetting the grinds overnight now.” Bucky snorted in reply while realizing that he wouldn’t actually be hearing Clint grumble about it anymore. There was a bit of a awkward silence that followed. Clint was the one to break it.

“You should stay for a movie and some beer. Have a night of it.”

“The last one?”

“No. That would be boring. You can come by whenever you want.”

They were quiet again. The coffee machine beeped and said “Your coffee is ready.” Clint grinned.

“Do you boys want to stay for a movie night?” He asked loudly and rather suddenly, turning to look at Steve directly with a distinct air of ‘do not say yes’. “Bucky is in.”

“Maybe another night. I have to go do other rich people things tonight. Mandatory dinners and things like that.” Tony said, despite the fact that it was eight o’clock at night. He’d been listening to Clint blabber on without point about Barnes for over a week, he didn’t want to stick around to witness it in person.

“I’ve got plans already, I was mostly just giving you a ride over. You sure you’re staying, Buck?” 

Bucky looked mildly annoyed at the question. “I think I can remember my way home.”

“Well then, thanks again Tony for the reconstruction. I’m happy to have a bed again. Steve, thanks for the couch and the ride. I will be over more often now that I know how well stocked you keep your place. Both of you have fun at your whatever you’re doings.” Clint said, walking around the small kitchen island to lead them towards the door. Neither was hard pressed to stay anyway.

Bucky was already sitting on the couch when Clint came over with a couple of beers in hand. He passed one to Bucky then sat down in the middle of the couch, knee bumping Bucky’s.

“Any movie requests?” He asked, picking up the remote. 

“Nah, you can pick.” Bucky said, glancing at Clint. Clint looked back at him and smiled.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were getting soft on me here Buckaroo.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just looked at the TV with a faint grin.


End file.
